


Candy Apples

by contrequirose



Series: miscellaneous musings (drabbles, ficlets, and other short things) [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Multi, Pre-Ikithon, Soltryce Academy, as some people have decreed this, festivals - freeform, my house i make the rules, no angst! only fluff!, soft, teenagers who r maybe in love and maybe just really good friends, you know?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-30 03:04:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19033456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contrequirose/pseuds/contrequirose
Summary: There are market vendors all around, selling spun sugar fake bones and tombstones and candied apples, bits of candied orange peel and currants and cherries, dried and tossed in sugar. She’s never seen this many sweet things in her life.Eodwulf, immediately, digs a handful of copper saved from Blumenthal and buys them all a few pieces of hard candy each, to savor, and the three of them walk slowly hand-in-hand-in-hand around the festival.There’s a booth, in the corner, showing some sort of intricate puppet show depicting a man with wings fighting a fish – at least she thinks it’s a fish. It’s hard to tell, from this distance.Bren, though, drags them all to a cart on the edge of the crowd, that’s empty of any other patrons. There are intricate wind chimes, on the edge of the lip above the table, and on the table itself, there are hundreds of tiny carved animals, packed together and glimmering in the colorful magic lights hanging from the posts above them.(ficlet request from mossystep!!!! thank you mossy!!!! :3)





	Candy Apples

**Author's Note:**

> short, again! but hey, love these kids. thanks for reading :3

“Did you see – the ceiling, in the common room? I didn’t even know that those constellations _had_ names in Common –“ Astrid whispers, as they pass through the hallways of the Academy, hands linked together with Eodwulf and Bren.

“I know, I know, and the books –“ Bren whispers back, fingers fluttering in her grip.

Eodwulf grins at them, and tugs them along faster. They don’t have any classes today, because it’s – well, its still a weekday, but it’s the Night of Ascension, today, and they have off. They’ve barely been at school a week, and they have off – it’s funny, almost.

Most of their classmates and teachers had seemed to be under the impression that this wasn’t even really a holiday, just a day for mourning – but they know better.

The best way, sometimes, to mourn people you’ve lost is by still living with joy without them.

The streets closer to the Academy are near empty, but the closer they get to the Raven Queen temple in the other district the louder the streets get. It’s on the verge of overwhelming, for her, and probably worse for Bren, but when she looks over he’s grinning, fierce and wonderful, and they push through the crowds to get closer to the temple.

There are market vendors all around, selling spun sugar fake bones and tombstones and candied apples, bits of candied orange peel and currants and cherries, dried and tossed in sugar. She’s never seen this many sweet things in her life.

Eodwulf, immediately, digs a handful of copper saved from Blumenthal and buys them all a few pieces of hard candy each, to savor, and the three of them walk slowly hand-in-hand-in-hand around the festival.

There’s a booth, in the corner, showing some sort of intricate puppet show depicting a man with wings fighting a fish – at least she thinks it’s a fish. It’s hard to tell, from this distance.

Bren, though, drags them all to a cart on the edge of the crowd, that’s empty of any other patrons. There are intricate wind chimes, on the edge of the lip above the table, and on the table itself, there are hundreds of tiny carved animals, packed together and glimmering in the colorful magic lights hanging from the posts above them.

Bren grins at the cart owner, and his hands move in quick flashes at his side, signing alongside his words. “How much for the bat one?”

The cart keeper, an older halfling whose hair tumbles down their back in a long braid, grins back at him. “For you, lad? Let’s say two copper.”

He nods. “And the bird, there?”

“Hm – three copper for both, then.”

Bren grins, again, hands jerking and almost-but-not-quite flapping before he reaches out and counts three copper into the cart keepers waiting palm, sweeping up the tiny bat and bird with his other hand.

He turns back towards them, and presses the bird into her hand and the bat into Eodwulf’s.

The festival glows as it gets darker. They don’t have much money for treats, but it’s still loads of fun, darting around the adults who imbibe more and more as the night goes on and chasing each other around the square, listening to the joyful songs being sung by a crowd of  bards within the temple and the musical instruments accompanying them.

She ducks around a lamp post, and sticks her tongue out at Bren, who sticks his out right back. “Bet’cha wish you could play piano even a quarter as good as these people –“

He swats at her shoulder and she doges out of the way, snickering. “I just started, it’s not like you're any better at the violin.”

Eodwulf’s hands come down across her shoulder, and then Bren’s as he pulls the two of them in close, ruffling both their hair.

She’s still taller than him, right now, but he’s going to rocket up soon.

Boys.

Ugh.

“Yes, both of you are still learning. I guess some people just have innate talent –“

“Just because you don’t sound like a dying cat when you sing Wulf doesn’t mean that you’re talented, it just means you have functional vocal cords.”

His hands in her hair twitches, and then messes up her short curls even more, frizz building as she ducks out of his grasp and points an accusative finger at him.

“You – don’t do that!” she huffs out, and then laughs, darting away again.

They wander around the festival for hours, until dusk is falling and the bells in the distance tell them that it’s time to go back to the Academy.

Later, when it’s past lights out in their dorm room, she sneaks out of her own – she doesn’t have a roommate because they get housed by area, their first year before they can make requests, so it’s pretty easy.

These rooms are practically made for sneaking out. There aren’t even any alarms or locks or anything.

If she had to guess, she assumes that the teachers assume that they would be doing it anyway, even if they tried to stop them. might as well make it relatively safe.

She creeps through the hallways, avoiding the night patrols, and knocks carefully on her boys’ door with a light hand, giggling silently as it opens and she’s grabbed and pulled through.

Wulf grins at her and releases his hand on her pajamas. Both of them are in PJs, as well, and she grins before grabbing a blanket off his bed and jumping up to haul herself next to Bren on his top bunk, watching fondly as he just blinks at her before continuing to turn pages in his book.

She boops him in the nose, and then leans over so that she’s hanging upside down off the top bunk, staring right at Eodwulf, who crosses his eyes and sticks his tongue out.

“You look like that painting of Martinet De’leth in the West wing.”

He gasps, mock-affronted. “No I don’t! Take that back!”

“Never,” she hisses, and grabs at his pillow to smack him, still hanging upside down.

But – she can feel herself slipping, and her eyes widen as she starts to fall, stopping with a jerk as Eodwulf grabs her by her shoulders and Bren holds onto her ankles above.

Eodwulf waggles his eyebrows, and she blows a raspberry at him, letting him take her weight and settle her on the bed next to him, right side up.

“You should really stop hanging off of things, that’s the third time this week I’ve had to catch you.”

She leans her head against his shoulder and smirks. “But if I’m not falling, who's going to catch me in his big, buff, incredibly strong arms –“

She pokes him, hard, and laughs when he flicks her back.

Bren’s head pokes down from up above, and then he scrambles down the ladder and settles himself on the bed with them, worming himself into the middle. It’s cramped, and kind of sweaty, all three of them pressed against each other like this, but it’s –

 

Nice, maybe.

 

Yeah.

 

Nice.

 


End file.
